


With a Knife

by aspiringenjolras



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, This whole thing is based off of the Broadway cast/blocking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 05:17:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3278180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aspiringenjolras/pseuds/aspiringenjolras
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He'll never forget the feeling of the knife against his cheek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With a Knife

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this entire thing based around how when I saw Les Mis again last Saturday from the front row, Ramin tapped Adam (u/s Javert) on the cheek twice with the knife, which was something I had never seen before. Don't ask me why that deserves a fic. 
> 
> Original post about it is [here.](http://kylescatliffe.co.vu/post/109744093498/okay-i-gotta-talk-about-this-thing-that-happened)

Javert has never been a prisoner before, though the concept is far from foreign to him. The feeling, however, of his hands being tied with three guns are pointed at him at any given moment- this is a sensation he does not like. Javert hopes that during the fight, someone will get to him. He sees a sniper in the window of the tavern- he thinks he’s seen the man’s face before. Maybe he can get his attention. And then Valjean sees him, and shoots him, and Javert watches what might be his last chance of escape collapse on the floor.

Valjean. Javert can’t believe he’s here- has the nerve to be here. And just like that, the fight it over, the National Guard are retreating, and the students are shouting excitedly. Idiots, all of them. 

The student leader, a tall man in a bright red vest, approaches Valjean and speaks to him. Javert tries to hear what they’re saying, but over the shouts and the odd gunshot, he can’t. The next thing he hears is Valjean raising his voice, almost as if speaking to Javert himself. Like he _knows_ Javert is trying to hear him. 

“Give me the spy Javert. Let me take care of him!” This- this is not what he was expecting. Javert stands up frantically, looking for somewhere, anywhere, to flee to, knowing full well that there was nothing he could do. He will not die at Valjean’s hands. He can’t. For one hopeful moment he thinks the student leader might say no, might actually understand that an injustice was being done- but of course that isn’t the case. 

“Do what you have to do- the man belongs to you!” Javert closes his eyes as Valjean marches up to him and grabs his arm roughly. He thinks he hears one of the other students protesting, but it might be his imagination.

He stumbles after Valjean away from the barricade and cries out in pain as he’s shoved to his knees. He can feel the rifle Valjean is holding bumping against his shoulder and he lets out a shaky breath. His mouth forms the words “don’t kill me,” but no sound comes out. 

“We meet again,” Valjean whispers, and his breath is hot against Javert’s ear. He cringes, trying to jerk away from him, though his hands are bound. 

“You’re hungered for this all your life!” Valean makes a small tsking noise and Javert suddenly feels a cold blade against his throat. Fighting the urge to gag, he leans away ever so slightly, and finds himself pressing against Valjean. He’s trapped. No escape. “Take your revenge,” he says, defeated. He knife trails across his neck, not hard enough to break the skin. “How right you should kill with a knife.” Then all at once the blade is gone. His shoulders sag in unexpected relief. 

Valjean leans over and smiles a sickly sweet, condescending smile that forces Javert to look away. “You talk too much.” He takes the knife and taps Javert’s cheek with the side of the blade twice. Tap. Tap. He feels sick. How dare this man mock him, patronize him like he is a child? Then again, that’s all he feels like. A poor misguided child who fell right into a trap. He closes his eyes. His cheek burns cold where the blade touched it. “Your life is safe in my hands.” And just like that he rope binding his hands behind his back falls loose. Javert looks down at his hands in shock.

“Don’t understand,” he says hoarsely. He looks up at Valjean with wide, frightened eyes, a hand going up to his cheek. Valjean glares down at him coldly.

“Get out of here.” 

Javert’s voice wavers as he clambers shakily to his feet. “Valjean, take care! I’m warning you-” 

Pushing him aside, Valjean stares at him. Javert can’t force himself to meet his eyes. “Clear out of here.”

Suddenly full of rage for this man, Javert glares, though his shaking hands can’t help him seem tough. “Once a thief, forever a thief! What you want you always steal. You would trade you life- for mine! Yes Valjean- you want a deal?” He grabs the rifle Valjean has leaned against the building and thrust it at him. “Shoot me now for all I care! If you let me go, beware. You’ll still answer to Javert!” His eyes widen frantically as Valjean takes the rifle in his hand, only to shove him forcefully up against the cold brick wall with an angry snarl, trapping him once again.

“You are wrong and always have been wrong!” Valjean is snarling angrily in his face now, his hand almost at Javert’s neck. “I’m a man no worse than any man.” He drops his hand and Javert stumbles away from the wall, shaking. “You are free, and there are no conditions, no bargains or petitions.” He holds up a hand as Javert starts to interrupt him. “There’s nothing that I blame you for.” 

_That’s a load of bullshit_ , Javert thinks.

“You’ve done your duty, nothing more.” Valjean sighs and shakes his head at him. “If I come out of this alive, you’ll find me at number 55, Rue Plumet.” He smiles, but it isn’t a pleasant one. “No doubt our paths will cross again.” Javert stands frozen, looking at him in horror. “Go.” He takes a step towards Valjean but is only met with a shake of his head. “Go!”

Slowly Javert backs away from Valjean and finally turns his back to him. He freezes when he hears the click of the rifle behind him. He stops and his breath catches, bracing himself for the blow. But it never comes, and he doesn’t wait around for Valjean to change his mind. He starts running and doesn’t look back. He can still feel the coolness of the blade against his cheek.


End file.
